


In the quiet misty morning...

by MapleLeafSquareRoot



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, Inspired by Music, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 01:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20073910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleLeafSquareRoot/pseuds/MapleLeafSquareRoot
Summary: Patrick has fond memories of his time spent at an Arts and Music Camp.  Driving home from his parents' house jogs one particular song to his mind, and it warms his heart.





	In the quiet misty morning...

**Author's Note:**

> I do not fancy myself a writer of fiction. My talents are generally limited to bylaw, policy, legislation, and other governing documentation. But this song has been in my head for a long time, as a result of my own time spent learning music. And let's face it, I would have 100% had a (fruitless) crush on Patrick, had we met at band camp.
> 
> Title from Marta Keen's Homeward Bound.
> 
> Cheers to all my fellow band/choir kids!

There’s something about the tenor of the French Horn, the shrill of the piccolo, or four-part harmony that always takes Patrick back. Back to summers of his youth, a few weeks each year spent at the Arts and Music Camp a few hours away from his Aunt and Uncle who lived in Manitoba. He revelled in the warm melody of Holsinger’s [On a Hymnsong of Philip Bliss ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iD5nYWsD8XI)from his vantage point in the woodwind section. His heart beat accelerated as did the tempo of Henry Filmore’s [Americans We](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H0TKaqTa6LM), despite being a proud Canadian, feeling the energy and enthusiasm of a proud American march. And though he loved show tunes, vocal jazz, and the rousing passion of a gospel number, it was always the four-part harmonies of his time spent in choral camp that warmed his heart the most.

Today, having left his parents’ home very early to drive back to Schitt’s Creek, the dewy weather and the crimson sunrise awakened the memory of [a forgotten favourite](https://youtu.be/878OTcl6iw8).

_In the quiet misty morning_  
_ When the moon has gone to bed_  
_ When the sparrows stop their singing_  
_ And the sky is clear and red_

_When the summer’s ceased its gleaming_  
_ When the corn is past its prime_  
_ When adventure’s lost its meaning_  
_ I’ll be homeward bound in time_

_Bind me not to the pasture_  
_ Chain me not to the plow_  
_ Set me free to find my calling_  
_ And I’ll return to you somehow_

_If you find it’s me you're missing_  
_ If you’re hoping I’ll return_  
_ To your thoughts I’ll soon be list’ning_  
_ And in the road I’ll stop and turn_

_Then the wind will set me racing_  
_ As my journey nears its end_  
_ And the path I’ll be retracing_  
_ When I’m homeward bound again._

As he drove towards Schitt’s Creek, towards David, towards their upcoming fall wedding, singing the principal part of the song, he felt the weight of the lyrics shift from thinking about where he had grown up, to where his life was now, as home. And he wished he could go back, and tell his younger self how good it would feel one day to find his place, and be truly homeward bound.


End file.
